


Euphoria

by PenguinKiwis



Series: Beautiful Words, Beautiful People [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Dresses, Formalwear, Gen, Gender Identity, Good Parent Plo Koon, Kel Dor Culture, Kel Dor society, M/M, Mentions of Nonbinary Characters, Other, Parental Plo Koon, Plo Koon is the Gender Dad™, Senator Gala, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Wooley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:06:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29831583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinKiwis/pseuds/PenguinKiwis
Summary: (N.) A feeling or state of intense excitement and happiness.It began with Fox’s discovery, and continued with acceptance of who Wooly was
Relationships: Kit Fisto/Plo Koon
Series: Beautiful Words, Beautiful People [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194038
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	Euphoria

**Author's Note:**

> He/They Plo and Plo in a dress is my favorite thing now, we can all go home

“I look ridiculous.”

The sentence was said with such distaste it certainly would’ve been comical, had the situation not been so dire.

Well, maybe _dire_ wasn’t the word, per se, but still, the five of them were quite pressed for time, and Fox was, admittedly, starting to get jittery as he stood— bucket off, out of armor, and dressed in a black suit with a white tie. Which already had him skittish because _how in the sith hells did he get roped into this?_

This being one of five who were attending a Senators’ Gala as a form of solidarity for— well, he wasn’t sure what. And while, sure, they could’ve grabbed literally _any_ Jedi for the job, somehow the task ended up falling to four Councilors.

But they were expecting two women and two men, and a Clone Escort— which fell to Fox.

And the only female councilor on Coruscant was Adi Gallia.

Which left them all in a predicament.

Had former Councilor Depa Biliba been _on_ Coruscant, then perhaps she would’ve been asked to fill in, but she and her Padawan were off-planet with their Company.

“You look _fine_ to me,” Agen Kolar uttered as he tightened his tie in the mirror. “Looks good on you.”

“You haven’t even seen him, Kolar,” Kit Fisto said and he slid the curtain to the changing booth he was in back, stepping out. While General Kolar’s tie was a deep red in color, General Fisto’s tie was green— which was expected. General Gallia snorted.

“I’m sure you look fine, Master Plo,” she chirped and a sigh came from the other changing booth before the curtain drew back.

General Fisto’s tresses perked as he looked over and General Koon stepped out, heeled boots clicking on the polished tile and red fabric falling to the ground.

Fox gaped, and General Kolar reached over and closed his jaw— but he really couldn’t help it.

Fox didn’t know any of these Generals that well, in truth, he heard stories from his brothers, but he didn’t _know_ any of them personally. The closest he got was with Skywalker, only through the Chancellor and Senator Amidala and Quinlan Vos whenever he showed up in the drunk tank. But _karking hells_ he had an image of General Koon that Wolffe and the 104th _Vod_ had cultivated in his mind.

Tall, stately. The quintessential Jedi— just without the whole emotional distance thing. Lots of layers in robes, a man who didn't like showing off skin. Someone who was 'proper' and straight-laced.

Not, not exactly _this._

The Kel Dor’s waist was narrower than his robes previously indicated, but that wasn’t exactly what had General Kolar holding Fox’s jaw shut— which was something weird in and of itself, but General Kolar seemed to have been expecting it.

No, it was the intricate scarring across the Jedi’s shoulders and chest, vanishing into the bodice of the crimson-colored dress.

Yeah. If Fox hadn’t known what the plan was beforehand, he’d have been startled over that as well, seeing High Councilor and General Plo Koon in a dress.

Still, the scarring was something that was done on purpose, he was certain. The lines were too even, too straight, too smooth, to be accidental. There was language craved in and around them too, but Fox wasn’t sure if it was one he knew or something else.

“See,” General Gallia was saying as he shook himself from his thoughts. “You look nice, Master Plo!"

She wasn’t affected by the withering glare from the Kel Dor as General Fisto wandered over to him. Thank the gods that he locked his jaw in place when General Kolar moved over to General Gallia or else Fox’s jaw would’ve been on the floor as he watched Fisto place his hands on Koon’s hips. 

“Fits well,” Fisto said before circling around, chin in hand as he looked the other General over. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s _red_ , Kit,” Plo sighed, “A horrible color for me to wear directly on the skin.”

What.

What?

“You mean it’s not the fact that it’s a dress, sir?” Fox found himself saying before he realized it. He snapped his jaw shut again as the Kel Dor turned his head to look at him, but there was a feeling of amusement rather than ire.

“I suppose one would think that to be the case,” General Koon mused before turning to General Gallia. “Master Gallia, you’re intentions were well, but I should have told you that red does not work well for me.”

“Plo, you wear _maroon_ regularly,” General Fisto pointed out and General Koon gently smacked the Nautolan’s chest with the back of his hand. 

“Besides the point,” he said, “Maroon is closer to brown than _crimson_ is.”

“Do black or dark blue work for you, Master Koon?” General Kolar asked, already making his way out to the rest of the shop.

“Yes, that would be nice, thank you, Agen,” the 104th’s General said and the Zabrak nodded before vanishing. General Koon turned back to Fox. 

“Back to your question, Commander, Kel Dor gender is rather... _fluid,_ I believe the term is. This isn't the first time since I've worn a dress, though I do say it's never been one of this high class. Nonetheless, we are not bothered by wearing something that would be considered the 'opposite gender' to what we present. Some sentients would think we are quite simple when it comes to it, but for us, it is a simple question. Does it hurt, help, or otherwise affect our working lives? No? Then it doesn’t need to be made into a large ordeal. Gender has never affected our lives on Dorin, we make a point for it to not affect our lives off of it.”

Fox was certain the Kel Dor was smiling behind the mask that he donned and Fox frowned, mauling over the words. 

“We have no need to push anyone towards feminine or masculine qualities,” General Koon gently added. “Those are just two of the many gender titles that exist for us.”

“Many?”

“Think of it as a sliding scale,” General Fisto supplied. “Right?”

General Koon nodded. “Yes. Many Kel Dor you meet will not fit into the same boxes that many sentients have created for Gender— especially, it seems, the Mammalian ones,” he mused as General Kolar came back, dark fabric over his arm and he handed the dress over to the Kel Dor. General Koon took it with a nod of thanks before stepping back into the dressing booth. 

“The boxes that are commonly accepted are Man and Woman,” he explained as he closed the curtain. “More recently, has come the choice of ‘neither’ which grants those who identify there with ‘they’, ‘them’, and ‘their’ for their pronouns. Nonbinary or Gender Neutral, depending on who you ask."

There was the sound of fabric falling to the ground before red was tossed over the bar holding the curtain. General Fisto reached up, taking the dress down and handing it back over to General Kolar. 

“But that still forces many of my people and kin into identities that do not match our home world’s identifications— and quite possibly those of other species as well,” General Koon continued. “The Senator for Dorin, for example, is close to being ‘neither’— or nonbinary— but isn’t exactly in the center spot. But their Aide, Ath Lirn, is. My niece, Sha Koon, on the other hand, is quite comfortable with identifying with the standard ‘female’ designation, and my own Uncle the same with ‘male’.”

Fox glanced to General Fisto, who just flashed his a toothy grin as if he had heard the explanation before.

(And if the way he placed his hands on the other was any indication, he probably had.)

Generals Gallia and Kolar seemed to be interested, though and Fox’s own curiosity was building. It seemed that General Koon seemed fine with questions so, maybe...

“You should not hesitate to ask what you do not know, Commander,” General Koon gently said as he pulled the curtain back. General Fisto whistled, tresses wriggling a bit, and Fox bit back a startled noise before swallowing. The dress— it fit the General _well._ Better than the red one had.

“What about you then, sir?” he ventured instead of commenting and General Gallia rummaged through the bag that she had brought to put their clothes in. General Koon hummed.

“I have no problems with being referred to as the masculine presentation,” he told Fox as he removed the talon guards on his fingers. “But I’m not like my Uncle. If we are to use the three accepted standards, I would be between masculine and nonbinary. A ‘He/They’ as you would.”

General Koon paused as he gently took a pair of silver guards from General Gallia and put them on instead. “But the Kel Dor use a ‘fifteen click’ system to explain, simply because we have many more identities than the standard. On that, I would be two and a half clicks right from the center. Three, if you prefer not to use halves.”

“Sir, that just makes me more confused,” Fox admitted and the Jedi laughed, gently reaching over and patting his shoulder.

“It is not something to worry about,” he assured him. “Kel Dor society is very different than Human and other sentients. I do not fault you for being confused, so long as it’s something you can accept. There have been many of my Kin who have faced trouble for not being strictly male or female. Senator Feng, unfortunately, was one of them.”

General Koon waved his hand and Fox’s tie straightened. “On Dorin, we chose who we are, biologically we are all the same. All Kel Dor can bear and sire children, why create divisions when we’re the same? Who we are mentally does not matter either, and for those who are biologically different, because there are those who are born different, what does it matter? We are all Kel Dor, all people of Dorin, Children of the Winds.” 

There was a smile in his voice for sure as he spoke.

“The Jedi teach things along these lines as well, tolerance, acceptance, the joy in just being who you were meant to be,” he continued as the five of them left the shop, General Kolar handing the shopkeep the pay before catching up— his dark hair braided back. 

“When the war ends, I wish to teach more on the topic,” General Koon admitted and Fox saw him lean a bit into General Fist as the Nautolan slung an arm around his shoulders. General Gallia laughed lightly as she took hold of General Kolar’s arm, the younger General rolling his eyes. “And should you or any of your brothers have any questions about gender or identity, please point them to me. My office and quarters are always open.”

Fox simply nodded, oddly enough, he just... _felt lighter_.

“Yes, sir!” 

(x)

There was a soft knock on his office’s door, almost too soft to hear, but Voolvif’s ear flicked and he looked up. Plo lifted his own head from his work, simply flicking his fingers and opening the door. Standing on the other side of it stood an unfamiliar trooper, hair long but cut into a mohawk, donning the golds of the 212th, though minimal. A “Shiny” then.

“Sir!” the trooper saluted, but Plo raised a hand.

“At ease,” he said smoothly. Voolvif’s ear flicked again and the other Jedi stood, padding out, giving a nod as he passed the trooper. The Trooper stepped into the office, hesitant and Plo simply indicated to the armchairs in front of his desk. “Sit, if you wish.”

The Trooper sat and he sent a gentle pulse through the force. The Trooper’s nervousness was clear as day, but they calmed.

“How can I help you, son?” he asked gently, and his eyes narrowed just slightly at the just barely hidden flinch.

Plo tapped his finger on the desk’s surface. 

“Daughter?” he tried gently and the trooper just bit their lip, but then nodded slowly. He perked, and smiled behind his mask.

“How can I help you, my daughter?” he asked gently again. “Are your brothers giving you grief over it?”

“No, sir,” _she_ said quietly. “It’s just...” _she_ ran her fingers across _her_ arms, shifting a bit. “Commander Fox said that— that you could help answer some questions?”

Plo hummed at that, inclining his head. “Of course,” he confirmed. “Anything I can help with, I will.”

There was silence, the trooper shifting where _she_ was. 

“Please... can you tell me... what’s wrong with me?”

He was expecting the question— some of his own in the 104th had asked him the same thing when they had come with questions— but still, the stylus in his hand snapped nonetheless. Some of the datapads on the shelves behind his desk rattled as the force surged around him, but he took a deep breath.

“Child,” he started gently. “Who told you that there was anything wrong with you?” 

She gazed down at her hands, a soft mumble escaping her.

“I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that, my daughter,” he admitted, setting the broken stylus to the side. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled. “He’s gone now...”

A brother then.

“But that doesn’t mean it didn’t _hurt,_ does it?” he mused before he took a breath and stood slowly. He made sure that she was watching him as he circled around the desk and knelt down in front of her.

“I need you to listen to me,” he said softly, tone gentle. “There is _nothing_ that is wrong with you. Perhaps your body does not match your mind, but there is _nothing_ that is wrong with how you feel— with _who_ you are.”

He gently took one of her hands between his and she slowly looked up met his eyes. He smiled behind his mask, squeezing her hand. “Would you mind answering a question for me?”

She paused, but nodded, giving him the go-ahead. “Do you feel as if you have dysphoria, body or otherwise?”

“Dysphoria...” she repeated, frowning. “I... sometimes, I think? I don’t _like_ it when the _vod_ call me ‘brother’, or when I’m referred to as ‘he’. I can handle ‘sir’, not that anyone uses it with me, but anything else... and I don’t like using the shower in the ‘freshers with the lights on—” 

She stopped herself suddenly and he gently squeezed her hand again, giving her a gentle nod.

“I understand,” he told her. “And I promise, I will help you the most I can. There are things I cannot do right now due to the war, but certainly, I promise, I will help you with whatever you need to feel comfortable.”

Plo paused for a moment, and the young woman sniffled, her eyes just a bit wet.

“Can I ask your name, my daughter?”

She sniffled again, rubbing one of her eyes with her hand. “Wooley...”

He rocked back on his heels. “Wooley,” he echoed, squeezing her hand again. “A wonderful name, for a wonderful daughter.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Come bother me on my Writing Tumblr [here](https://penguinkiwi-writes.tumblr.com/) or on my main blog [here](https://penguinkiwi.tumblr.com/)


End file.
